Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kosovo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Real Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cameo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Letta Mbulu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Freddie Wadling,
Gastr Del Sol,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Shadows of Knight,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth,
Public Enemy,
Popol Vuh,
Deepchord,
Janne Schatter,
Kayak,
Boredoms,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arcadia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
Boz Scaggs,
The Residents,
Smog,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Selecter,
Brick,
Magma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Clarke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tommy Roe,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
The Litter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arab on Radar,
Sex Pistols,
F. McDonald,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Warsaw,
Barrington Levy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Fluxion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
The Martian,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.